The Shadow and the Damned
by Kaniac
Summary: The rogue mage, Elymas, seeks possibly the most powerful spell in the history of Sanctuary.  His task will not be easy as he is hunted by a powerful assassin sent by his former clan, the Vizjerei.  Story told from the POV of the antagonist.  Please R&R.
1. Chapter 1

I remember thinking to myself how rotten of a place the inn was. Only lowlifes and scoundrels belonged there. Unfortunately, I was in a position where I had to stay in a place of such low standards. I had recently left the Vizjerei on bad terms. I knew they had sent one of their Viz-Jaq'taar agents after me. I needed to stay in lowly piss-holes like the "Desert Rain Inn," as the one-eyed innkeeper had called it, to not draw attention to myself. I had stored away my red spirit-robe, known as a "Turinash," and replaced it with a plain, brown cloak. I needed to look like I was a member of the low class I saw around me so no assassins would pick me out of the crowd and follow me to my death. I kept reminding myself that I only needed to live with the rats for a short period of time. Let me first tell you how I came to the position I was in at the inn.

I had plans to become so much more than I was. I, Elymas, was already great. A powerful mage in the Vizjerei clan, I knew that my most talented peers paled in comparison to my skills. I became dissatisfied with associating myself with the sorcerers so below my status in that guild. I made my pilgrimage east from Kehjistan to seek out more knowledge.

During my journey, I encountered another powerful mage clan, the Priests of Rathma. I had tried to enter their domain so I could learn their secrets of necromancy. Even though the Rathma cult had worked with the Vizjerei in the past, they still refused to reveal their secrets to me. However, I am a determined man. The necromancer I was talking to was young in the Art and I could tell he had not yet built a strong resistance to spells. I used one enchantment on him that I had only used before on beautiful women resisting my charm. The spell temporarily put him in my command. The bond was weak, the time I had control of him was limited, and this apprentice surely did not have access to what I sought. So I used him in another way. I had him lead me to the great hall in the underground catacombs where the tomes of necromantic knowledge was kept. It was still a risky maneuver. If any of the other Priests caught a Vizjerei walking through the secret catacombs of the Rathma, I would probably be killed to "keep the balance," as they would say. We had to sneak around a lot. Spells to hide sound helped a great deal during my little quest. We finally arrived at a humble door with a single man standing next to it.

"Hey, you don't look like you belong here." The new man, another young Rathma cultist, was guarding the library. Like the Vizjerei, apprentices of Rathma were usually tasked with the annoying jobs, like guarding libraries and such. I quickly cast the same spell on this man as I did my other hypnotized companion. I ordered the guard to hand the key to me. He did. I then instructed both men to go to their chambers and sleep. This would buy me more time away from these two. I was sure I remembered my way out, anyway. I looked at the key. The head of the key was shaped into a skull, the teeth of the key looked like bones. I used the key to unlock the door. When I entered, I was immediately overwhelmed with the smell of poison and death. I covered my face with my sleeve as I peered around the hall. It was very dark. Candles were lit to give just enough illumination to navigate around the bookshelves. I could have, of course, cast a light spell, but I did not want to draw attention. After some time of looking, I came across a dirty desk that looked like it could have been grand at some point. It was very large and sat at the head of the library as if many years ago it seated a teacher giving lessons to apprentice necromancers on their dark Art. On the desk was a book much larger than any I had seen in the library. I noticed that, despite the amazing amount of dust covering the entire library, the book I now held was as clean as the day it was printed. I immediately felt the power emanating from the book. I knew this was what I needed. I turned back to leave the library.

There was a small clicking sound as I locked the door behind me. I dropped the key to the floor and headed back the way I came, hiding in the shadows as I did, of course. I headed back the way my magnificent mind recalled I came in. After some time, I had run into a dead end. Damn those dark catacombs! I got lost, more lost, and more lost. The spell I had cast that silenced my footsteps was wearing on my energy. Magic, you see, is in some ways similar to doing physical things. For example, both require energy. After casting many spells and using up all your energy, or mana, you can actually feel physically fatigued. I was at that point. I stopped and found a good place to hide and let myself recharge. I could have used a mana potion, but if there were any powerful Priests nearby, which I was sure there was, the sudden surge in mana in my location would draw attention to me. I could not afford that. I waited in the shadows until another necromancer came by. I used the last bit of mana I had to cast the mind control spell on him. I had immediately realized that it was a mistake to use the spell on that one. He was much stronger. The spell took, but not very well. I commanded him to lead me to the exit of the catacombs. I didn't even bother with subtly at this point. We both ran to the exit, drawing looks from every hallway.

Somehow, we had made it to the exit. However, just as I did, he shook off the spell. He saw what was in my hand. I heard shouting coming from the mouth of the catacombs. I no longer needed to hide. I had quickly retrieved one of my mana potions and drank away. When I finished it, the man I had hypnotized along with a score of other Priests were charging towards me to get the book back. Did I mention that I was a brilliant man? I pulled out a scroll that I was holding in case I came across this very scenario. Those scrolls were rare, but its effects were vital in continuing my quest. I quickly read the incantations on the scroll. I felt the energy from the scroll burn my hands. I dropped it to the ground. Fire spread across the ground towards the mob of dark mages and erupted into the air, killing a large score of the necromancers. The Apocalypse spell had worked quite adequately. I turned and fled into the hot jungle with the book in my hands. None came after me. I made my escape and continued my quest.

When I later arrived at one of the lodges of the Vizjerei, I was informed that I had committed crimes in the Art and was not allowed to enter the lodge until I went to trial and was acquitted of my crimes. I knew that killing a score of allied mages would not be a forgivable act. I would, I'm sure, have my amazing life ended. I could not let this happen. I turned to leave. The mage guarding the lodge, another apprentice, of course, told me I was not allowed to depart and I had to standby for escort to the nearby Vizjerei fortress for trial. He died quickly.

I was then officially a rogue sorcerer. I was marked for death and knew I had to go into exile until I could find a way to become too powerful for the entire Vizjerei clan to touch.

I knew that the safest place to be in exile would be a place that mages did not frequent. I spent about a year in the barbarian northlands in a small abandoned fort that I turned into my private domicile. I spent that time studying the book that I came to call the "Necrotome." It was not labeled. I named it as I pleased.

During my studying of the Necrotome, I came across a discovery I was sure no other mage had encountered. Many years ago, there was a small city outside of Lut Gholein called Muqdaya which roughly translated to "day of the magi." The city should have been named something that meant "death of the magi." The mages of that that city had learned a powerful spell that could wipe out an entire population…the spell of genocide! They attempted to use the spell on an ancient race of "snake men" that had been attacking the city with vile magic for years. Unfortunately, they were fools and botched the spell, wiping out their own city and population. The city, now called the "Lost City," was overrun with the snake men. However, in the city's temple, the secrets of the spell supposedly lay in a hidden chamber. If I could master that spell, I would become a sorcerer so powerful that all the mage clans combined could not compare to my might!

So I traveled from the lands of the stupid northmen and wound up in the Desert Rain Inn owned by and equally stupid man that kept bragging about his younger days when he was a bandit. I followed the man, Elzix, to my room. Once I was in private, I laid down some wards to warn me if anyone came to kill me in my sleep. I was in a city founded in magic. It would not take long for a Seer to pinpoint my location and send a Viz-Jaq'taar agent my way. Actually, I was pretty sure one was already on the way. No matter. I would kill one of them just like I would kill anyone that got in my way. However, I could not let such things weigh on my mind the night before such an important day in my life. Tomorrow I would exit the gates of Lut Gholein to go find Muqdaya. I gave Lut Gholein one last glance from my window before I went to bed. When I did, I noticed a shadow down the street quickly dart into an alley when I gazed in that direction. It was probably some thief waiting for a helpless victim to come sauntering by so he could acquire a few gold coins he didn't deserve. The whole city was a bunch of scoundrels. No matter. Soon I will have the power of genocide. This city would be the first to go.


	2. Chapter 2

I awoke to the sounds of a bunch of blundering fools the following morning. As annoying as the sounds were, I was still thankful that I wasn't awakened by the wards I had placed. Even so, I reminded myself that even though my wards did not alarm me, I still could not be too complacent. A trained assassin could sense the wards I had placed and opt to attack at a later time as opposed to give away his or her identity.

I gathered my belongings and left the rented room. I gave my area a quick magical scan to check for anything, or anyone, that could be a threat. I concluded that my immediate area was free of any dangers. I went back down to the first floor to pay the innkeeper and begin my quest. When I stepped foot in the lobby, I looked around for the fool known as Elzix. At first, I had difficulty picking him out of the bunch of miscreants in the lobby.

I first noticed a man with dark skin, low quality armor, and a rusted sword for a weapon. I concluded that he must have been one of the many adventurers that had flocked to Lut Gholein since the discovery of the seven tombs far out in the desert. He greeted two similarly clad warriors as they approached. They took turns checking their gear and collecting water skins for their journey into the desert with the hopes of finding fortune in the tombs. I continued to scan the room.

The next man I looked at had a light skin tone like the natives of the western kingdoms, but slightly paler. He wore a plain brown cloak like the one I was wearing to look inconspicuous. His hair was cut very short, barely longer than stubble. There was a small patch of equally short hair on the very bottom of his chin. When I looked at him, he glanced back with icy blue eyes. His cold gaze seemed to freeze me in place. I felt fearful, and didn't know why. I quickly averted my gaze. As I did, so did he. I felt some relief when those frigid eyes were off me.

As I continued to peer around the room, my eyes stopped on a man that appeared to be an Aranoch native. He had the expected dark tan skin and was dressed in the common attire I had seen around town. He was peeing off into space, stroking his beard. Upon closer inspection, I realized that he was blind. The man with no sight spoke. "They must end hatred before they can face terror. Only then can they stop destruction." His words made no sense to me. To my right, a man behind a counter spoke, pulling my attention off the babbling blind man.

"Don't mind him. He speaks nonsense all the time." The man who spoke I recognized immediately. It was the fool, Elzix. I approached him to pay for my stay. Before I could speak to him, the blind my rambled on some more.

"Where you fear cold, you die by fire."

I ignored the rambling man and pulled out my gold purse to make my payment. I was very tempted to charm him to get a lower price, but I knew that would bring unwanted attention. Elzix thanked me with a smile. I use the term "smile" loosely; he was missing half his teeth. I turned and headed for the exit. Before I reached the door, I heard the blind man utter one last line.

"Few will know the story of the Shadow and the Damned."

For some reason, this comment caught my attention. I shot a glance back towards the blind man, but missed my mark. My eyes landed on the man with the cold stare. When our eyes locked again, I felt and eerie tingling up my spine. With a shudder, I exited the inn.

I walked down the street to a tavern by the merchants square. As I tried to enter the establishment, a large brute walked out and ran into me. "Watch where you're going you blundering fool!" After I shouted this, I got a better look at him. He was tall and muscular. His grayish eyes peered down at me with a frenzied look. Dressed in materials commonly found in the north, I deduced that this man was a member of the nomadic tribesmen from the steppes, a barbarian. We both stared at each other in awkward silence for a moment. I read in his eyes that he had seen much violence in his life. A confrontation with the brute, I was sure, would end badly.

Fortunately, before tensions rose any further, a dark skinned man in brilliant armor appeared and placed a hand on the barbarian's shoulder. "Peace, brother." The man in armor said this, then looked at me and nodded with a smile. I nodded back, with no smile.

With a grunt, the barbarian brushed past me and headed in the direction of the docks.

"Please forgive him, kind sir." I looked back to the man who spoke, the one in armor. This man had kind looking brown eyes, as opposed to the maniacal grey eyes of the barbarian. The man's armor was bright and silver in color. An expensive looking shield was hanging from his back. The knight's right hand rested on the pommel of a sheathed sword. His left arm secured a helmet to his flank. The helmet was just as shiny as the man's armor.

"Eh? Why should I forgive such insolence? The man holds true to his ancestry. He is completely barbaric. This world has no place for such…barbarity."

"Well, sir, I can assure you that, regardless of his class, he is a good man that champions light." I rolled my eyes at the words. "He is just brash right now because he was recently injured very badly. If it were not for his sturdy frame, the combative support of our party, and some prayer from myself, he would have surely died." Pity. "He is just disgruntled from his injuries."

I returned my attention to the brute. It was then that I noticed he was walking with a limp and was bandaged in various places across his massive body. "Well, tell your companion to watch where he's going. He might not get injured as much that way."

The knight, I could see, was not pleased at my words. Even so, his manners never faltered. With another nod of his head, he said, "I'll take it under advisement. Have a good day, sir."

I did not return the knight's gesture this time as I entered the tavern. I sat at the first small empty table I saw. I looked around the diner. The same low class of people surrounded me. I stopped looking around so I wouldn't lose my appetite. When a server approached, I let him know that I wanted soup and water. He offered ale. I was tempted, but I needed to keep my wits about me.

While enjoying my soup, which surprisingly tasted rather good, I saw many people come and go. Some were adventurers, some were common drunkards, and some were ordinary citizens looking for their morning meal. A handful of the people I saw at the Desert Rain Inn were among the crowd that came to the tavern. I recognized the three dark skinned warriors with cheap gear. I saw a man sitting in the back corner wearing a plain brown cloak like mine. I didn't remember seeing him come in, nor did I remember him being there before I arrived. I was curious if it was the frosty eyed stranger. I couldn't tell because his hood was pulled over his head. I kept staring to satisfy my curiosity. It only took a short moment for the hood opening to face my way to get a glimpse of one of the wintry blue eyes. I decided it was time to leave. I left a pile of gold that I was sure would cover the cost of my meal.

Just across the street from the tavern was the merchant's square. I went there and stocked up on supplies, which mostly consisted of water skins. I had a travel sack with the Necrotome, a few scrolls I had saved, water skins, maps, notes I had written, a little bit of food, a few vials of various potions, and a very special item that I will detail later in this story. I am a smart man, but I was never a strong man. The sack was heavy. I needed to hire some help.

I went down to the docks to find someone willing to help carry some, or all, of my gear. When I got there, I saw a group of adventurers boarding a boat that was so worn down, I was surprised it stayed afloat. Two of the adventurers already on the vessel were the dark skinned knight and the brutish barbarian. But my attention was not on them. One of the members of the odd group of adventurers was a young, pale skinned female wearing black clothing. She was the last type of person I wanted to see. She was a member of the Viz-Jaq'taar. I turned around and walked as quickly as I could away from the docks.

My eyes locked on the city gates that lead out to the open sands of the Aranoch desert. I walked until those gates stood right before me. I stopped and looked around. The desert mercenary captain, Greiz, was checking on his men standing guard at the gates. He noticed that my attention was on him. The mercenary captain greeted me.

"If you're planning on going out into that wasteland, I advise you to hire one of my men. We're the best at what we do and will guarantee you make it back safe. If you're interested, we can discuss prices. If not, it's been nice knowing you."

I thought about the captain's prospect. I would have liked to have someone come along to help carry all my gear. After all, it was my intention to get someone for that very task at the docks. But, of course, I had to leave prematurely to avoid contact with a certain young woman. It also occurred to me that these men probably knew the layout of the desert well and what dangers would most likely be encountered. Having one of these men in my employ could be very beneficial for my quest.

I looked over the men. I did not want to pay too much, but did not want to get a cheap and inexperienced man, either. After looking over the men and discussing how well seasoned each soldier was and how much each one cost, I settled on the most expensive one I was willing to pay for. I pointed him out. Greiz nodded and called the mercenary over.

"Alhizeer, front and center!" The mercenary broke from his post and quickly ran over to us. He nodded to his captain and stood at attention.

"Yes, sir!"

"Soldier, you are to escort Mr. Elymas here to wherever he tells you to for the time being. When your services are done, you will immediately report back to me here. Is that understood?"

"I understand, sir." The mercenary and his captain shared a nod. Alhizeer turned his attention to me. With a thud, he struck the bottom of his spear on the stony road. "Ready for orders, sir."

I told him that I planned on exploring the area commonly known as the "Lost City." His eyes showed surprise, but he still listened to all his orders with enthusiasm.

After hearing all I asked of him, he quickly inspected the shaft of his spear, then the tip. He nodded with satisfaction and informed me that he was ready to go when I was.

I stood in the entryway of the massive city gates. I quickly glanced back at Lut Gholein. It looked so amazing at the angle I was at. Regardless of its aesthetics, I rejoiced that such an amazing sight would soon be completely destroyed by my own power. With a dark grin that briefly startled my new companion, I began my journey into the blazing desert. I felt that nothing could stop me from gaining absolute power. Nothing, that is, except maybe for the angry looking beetles charging our way that were as tall as men.


	3. Chapter 3

5

The gigantic beetles definitely looked hostile. I looked to Alhizeer expectantly. My eyebrow was raised, as if it was reaching out to the mercenary for an answer. After a moment of silence, I asked, "Well?"

With his thumb, he pointed to the top of the wall on the sides of the city gates. "Nothing to worry about when we're close to these walls. The crossbows will pick them off."

I looked up to the tops of the walls where Alhizeer was pointing. There were several perches with crossbowmen already taking aim at the beetles. I watched as volleys of bolts rained down on the creatures. As the bolts struck, flashes of buzzing light shot out the bodies of the intimidating insects. About half were killed, the other half ran away.

"Those are called 'scarab beetles.' We call them 'scarabs' for short. They're extremely dangerous. When struck, lightning energies come out their bodies. It's a defense mechanism they developed over the years in the harsh deserts. Don't expect to see me charging at them with my spear. It would only get me killed. It's best to take them out from afar."

"Good to know. Do you have any ranged weapons?"

Alhizeer held up his spear. "No. All I have is my spear."

Damn. I knew using magic would draw unwanted attention, but if we encountered those scarab beetles again, I would have to defend myself with magic. I reminded myself that I would be out in the desert away from prying eyes. The only witness would be Alhizeer. Chances are he would not even be surprised if I used magic. Lut Gholein was once a Vizjerei fortress. I'm sure Alhizeer has seen sorcerers in action before. Still, the less anyone saw, the better. I decided to only use my magic as a last resort.

We started trekking across the burning desert in the direction of Muqdaya according to the map I had purchased. It did not take long for my body to get fatigued. I stopped and looked over at the mercenary, Alhizeer. "I cannot carry all this gear in this heat that I am not used to. You are stronger and accustomed to the natural conditions of this desert. Carry my bags for me. I'll pay you more gold for your troubles."

Alhizeer shook his head. "I cannot fight well if I am weighed down. The gold's not worth it if I can't fight to stay alive."

I did mention I am a brilliant man, right? I'm sure I did. If you recall, earlier in my tale I mentioned that I have the power to control weak minds. Alhizeer was not dumb, but I could feel that he had no resistance to the Art.

A few moments later, we were trekking across the desert. I was carrying a walking staff (not magical, unfortunately) and a water skin. Alhizeer was carrying everything else. We encountered several groups of hostile creatures that inhabited the desert. There were large bugs with huge pincers that spat venom, a race of upright walking people that looked like cats, but luckily we hadn't encountered any of the scarab beetles thus far. I watched Alhizeer dispatch the hostile creatures one by one. I was honestly impressed with his fighting skills. Even though he was slowed down by my bag, he still moved very quickly. He was almost as skilled with the spear as I was with my mind. Almost. He dropped dozens of enemies and showed no emotion doing it. Clearly, the man was a veteran. Before long, most of the hostile creatures of the desert decided to avoid us than to face the wrath of the savage spearman.

After some time of travel across the dry desert, we encountered a tomb that led underground. We had seen several tombs like it already, but this one called to us because we needed rest. Alhizeer was starting to show signs of weariness from all the fighting while carrying most of my belongings. I pointed to the tomb entrance and looked at the weary warrior. H nodded.

We walked to the tomb entrance and peered into the darkness. A smell of dust and death filled my nostrils.

"These tombs are usually filled with undead, but with all the adventurers coming through lately, most are probably destroyed." Alhizeer said this then descended the steps into the tomb. I followed.

When we got to the bottom of the steps, I looked around our immediate area. I saw a hole in the wall to my right. It was large enough to stash my bag of items. I had Alhizeer hide the sack in the cubby so no passersby would claim the contents as their own. I had decided that since the tomb possibly held valuable items beneficial to my quest, we would search its halls and rest from the heat at the same time. Aranoch had been inhabited by mages for centuries. It was possible that valuable magical items lay hidden in the tomb.

After some time of resting our legs and sipping on water, we began searching the dank, dark hallways of the tomb for any valuables. We came across the remains of many slain undead creatures. These servants of sinister sorcery surrounded us and smelled of scorched skin. There was a belief that some undead could rise again if the conditions permitted so. Burning the corpses was believed to prevent that from happening. Apparently, adventurers had recently explored the tomb we were in and used a torch to burn the zombies that once lurked the hallways. This was, of course, good news and bad. The good news was that most, if not all, hostile creatures in the tomb had already been destroyed. This meant the tomb was probably relatively safe. The bad news was that treasure hunters had already raided the tomb. Chances of finding valuable items were less. Regardless, we pressed on.

All the hallways ended in rooms that had clearly been raided not that long ago. The dust had not even settled. There were a few gold coins lying about, most likely dropped by adventurers that had full hands. The coins would barely be enough to buy a water skin, so I didn't even waste the effort to pick them up. Alhizeer did, however. I was not surprised…he was a mercenary, after all.

We came to the last room in the tomb. At least, I think it was the last room. And, as brilliant as I am, what I think is almost always true. So, yes. It was the last room. In the room, there were many chests that had been opened. One had not. The lock had clearly been beaten on, but still held the chest lid closed. This chest was very large…large enough that I first thought it was a coffin.

Alhizeer walked up to the chest and lightly kicked the lock. The rattling sound echoed in the room. "I doubt we'll get into this one."

I shoved Alhizeer out of the way angrily. "Never doubt me!" I inspected the lock and thought of the best way to open it. I thought of one way, but Alhizeer would see my magical powers. I knew he would eventually find out. I decided to reveal my secret to the mighty mercenary.

"Have you seen a lot of magic in action?"

He looked at me incredulously. "I grew up in a former Vizjerei fortress. I've seen magic almost every day of my life." He laughed.

Of course, he was referring to the city, Lut Gholein. It had been a fortress of my former order many years ago. "Well," I said, "I, too, am adept at the Art. I may have a spell that can shatter the lock."

"I was wondering when you'd start using your powers."

I looked at him in shock.

"I've been around so many mages in my life that I can feel magical powers coming from a person. I never could use any spells, but I can feel the energy from those who use it a lot. I knew within minutes of being employed by you that you were some type of mage."

Well then. I returned my focus to the lock. The primary elements that mages use are fire, ice, and lightning. Some could use other elements, but that was rare. I specialized in lightning. It was powerful and chaotic, like me. I knew a few ice spells. I never bothered to learn any fire spells. I only used fire spells when I had the help of a scroll or staff. Lightning would be too chaotic to shatter the lock. I might be able to break it with a focused lightning spell, but I might inadvertently destroy the contents of the chest. I decided to try a basic freezing spell. I gripped the lock in my hand and focused on the ice spell. I watched as the lock turned white. I looked over at Alhizeer. "Quickly, before it thaws."

Alhizeer looked around the room and saw an old rusty shield that lay next to a skeleton. He picked it up and approached the chest. After raising the shield above his head, he brought it down mightily, connecting with the frozen lock. There was a breaking sound.

I looked at the lock. It still remained, keeping us out. I turned my attention back to the mercenary.

Alhizeer held up and inspected the shield. There was a large piece missing. He rotated the shield and aimed the rim opposite the broken side at the lock. He came down again with an audible grunt. Again there was a breaking sound. This time, there was also a metallic ringing sound as the lock fell to the floor. "Ha!" exclaimed the successful spearman.

I opened the chest and searched through the contents. Most of the items were worthless, like tattered robes and broken weapons. In the bottom of the chest was a magical staff. I could feel its energy calling to me. I had sold my old magical staff because it was the only item I could sell for enough gold to fund my travels. I had replaced it with the plain wooden walking staff that I still had with me. This staff looked like a worthier replacement for my old enchanted staff. This one was also wood, but finely crafted. Topaz stones of various shapes and sizes decorated the head piece. It was quite possible that the stones gave the staff lightning energies. This would be very useful to me, as lightning was my element of choice. I would have to have the staff examined later to discover what powers it might hold. I felt its energy, but I had to be sure it was controllable. Many mages have made the mistake in the past of using a staff, wand, or other item before fully knowing its properties. They were usually injured or killed. Not I, however…superior intellect and all. I set the staff to the side and returned my attention to the chest.

There was not much else of value in the chest except some gold, a red ring that I would have to also identify later, and a couple mana potions. Whoever had placed those items in the coffin-sized chest must have been a mage. I pocketed the ring and the two mana potions, and then I picked up the staff, leaving my old walking staff behind. Alhizeer grabbed the gold. The money-minded mercenary didn't surprise me.

We then headed back to the entrance of the tomb. When we got there, that's when we first encountered Him. Of course, I am referring to the assassin sent to extinguish my life. I recognized him as the man with the cold eyes I had seen earlier in Lut Gholein. How long had he been tracking me? I remember seeing him at the inn. Then I saw him again at the tavern. It occurred to me that he was most likely the shadow I saw from my window the previous night.

Without any warning, the Viz-Jaq'taar agent attacked.


End file.
